

In a philanthropic landscape often defined by cheque-writing and short-term interventions, Radha Goenka, founder of Pehlay Akshar, The Heritage Project and NatuRe, has spent nearly two decades building something different. Through three distinct foundations spanning education, heritage, and the environment, she has pioneered an approach rooted in innovation, community ownership, and long-term systems change.
From introducing functional English education in Mumbai's municipal schools to reimagining heritage preservation through storytelling, and from building native urban forests to supporting regenerative farming in Vidarbha, Goenka's work reflects a deeply entrepreneurial mindset applied to social impact. Her initiatives consistently focus on overlooked high-need areas where few others are working, creating scalable models that communities can ultimately own and sustain.
This month, as we celebrate stories of impact at Robb Report India, we speak to Radha Goenka about what drives her philanthropic philosophy, why time matters more than money, and how true sustainability comes from community ownership.
Radha Goenka (RG): The journey into all three spaces was organic, but the philosophy behind them was consistent. I was always looking at high-need areas that were being ignored, spaces where very few people were working, and where there was room to innovate and build solutions that could scale.
Education was the first. Within that, we focused on English because it isn't politically popular. Yet we saw it as a powerful lever of change. Functional English—basic speaking and reading skills aligned with global ESL frameworks—can completely alter someone's life. It opens access to better jobs, information, and the internet itself.
We began with one municipal school in Mumbai in 2008. Today, nearly two decades later, the programme has scaled across Mumbai and extended to cities like Thane, Palghar, and Pune in partnership with the BMC. That validated our belief that innovation, when done thoughtfully, can scale.
FG: India has an extraordinary heritage, but as a developing country, government resources understandably prioritise people over places. Heritage, as a result, is often neglected. Most existing work focuses on restoration, which is capital-intensive and difficult to scale.
We chose preservation instead. Rather than rebuilding infrastructure, we focus on stories: researching, documenting, and creating experiences around a place. Working closely with the government, we ensure safety, cleanliness, and access, then build heritage walks and storytelling-led experiences that help people understand why a site matters.
When people connect with a place emotionally, preservation follows naturally. This approach is far more scalable and allows heritage to remain alive, not frozen in time.
RG: There is no sustainable work without the community at the centre. Participation is when people are involved; ownership is when they feel responsible.
In places like Koliwada, we began by listening, asking residents what mattered to them. The heritage walks we developed are conducted by local youth. They learned about their own history, earned livelihoods through tourism, and developed pride in their culture. As a result, they now maintain the space themselves.
We saw this again with the women of Koliwada. Their food traditions were extraordinary, so we created Chefs of Koliwada. We documented recipes, published a cookbook, trained them in professional kitchens, and helped them start a catering business. These women are now cultural ambassadors for their community. That's ownership.
RG: Both address overlooked environmental challenges. In cities, we built native forests, not parks, but dense ecosystems using indigenous plants. Our pilot, The Nest in Malabar Hill, demonstrates how forests can self-regulate temperature, improve air quality, and support biodiversity, all at a fraction of the cost of conventional parks.
In rural India, soil degradation is a crisis few talk about. Regenerative farming is difficult for small farmers because yields drop before organic premiums kick in. Philanthropic capital, I felt, had to bridge those three years. We innovated a model that reduced input costs and made farming viable from year one.
Today, we work with over 1,500 farmers in Vidarbha. To address market inequities, we've also launched a social enterprise to connect farmers directly with buyers, including potential partners like Chanel.
RG: Giving has always been part of my life, even as a student in the US. I mentored children in West Philadelphia because it brought me joy and purpose. That feeling stayed with me.
What working across diverse communities has taught me is that privilege carries responsibility, yes, but also opportunity. The choice lies in what you do with it. Across the world, there are extraordinary giving journeys. It's about choosing to see them and choosing to participate.
RG: For me, philanthropy is about time. In India, 95% of social-sector funding comes from the government. Only five per cent is philanthropic capital. Money largely goes into sustaining jobs.
But, time, mentorship, engagement, and thinking deeply about problems is transformative. If more people gave their time, the impact would be extraordinary. The time you give matters far more than the cheque you write.
RG: Start by identifying what genuinely matters to you, then look for high-need areas within that space where few people are working. Innovation happens at the margins, not in crowded fields.
Most importantly, commit to understanding the community you want to serve. Listen before you act. Build solutions with them, not for them. And remember that sustainable impact takes time. It's not about quick wins; it's about building systems that last long after you've stepped away.